Another Thursday At The Figgis Agency
by Red Witch
Summary: There's no work and the agency is running out of money. The Hollywood sign has been tagged. Krieger clones and flesh eating radioactive pigs run amok. And a former TV star is planning his comeback in the break room. Just a typical day at the Figgis Agency.
**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters is taking a nap. Thanks to Snake Screamer for giving me the idea! So what happened during those three months before the newly named Figgis Agency got a single client? Well this is...**

 **Another Thursday At The Figgis Agency**

Mallory Archer looked at her son from across the conference table. "Well Sterling your idea of starting a detective agency is getting off to an **exciting start**! I actually only yawned _three times_ this morning!"

"Okay you know…?" Archer glared at his mother.

"Here we go…" Cyril groaned. He and Lana were also in the conference room trying to figure out how to get more business for their new (and already floundering) agency.

 _"Let's open up a detective agency_ you said!" Mallory mocked. " _It will be just like_ _Magnum PI_ you said! Why I bet any minute now John Hillerman is just going to waltz right in!"

"Mother…" Archer groaned as he took a drink.

"Any minute now," Mallory looked around. "Any minute **now** …"

"Okay Ms. Archer **we get it**!" Cyril groaned. "Things aren't going well!"

"Understatement of the year," Mallory grumbled as she took a drink.

Cyril sighed. "You realize we only have enough money to run this business for six months. If we can't get a client before that…"

"We could be out of our detective careers before we even **start!** " Mallory put down her glass and threw up her hands. "Again, **brilliant** idea Sterling!"

"Look business will pick up soon I'm sure of it," Archer said. "I mean come on Mother, it's hard enough getting to work here every day with all that traffic."

"Yes it must be such a hassle rushing off to work to do **nothing** for eight hours a day!" Mallory shouted.

"I'm sure our future clients are on their way," Archer protested. "They're just stuck in traffic!"

"Stuck in traffic? For **several weeks straight**?" Mallory snapped. "Even in LA traffic isn't **that bad**!"

"You'd be surprised," Archer shrugged.

"We've only been open for less than a month," Lana said. "I guess it takes time to start up a new business."

"Not **this** much time!" Mallory snapped. "Within the first week of my old agency's opening I had at least twenty cases!"

"And I'm guessing all of them involved your boyfriends at the time," Archer said acidly.

"Not **all** of them!" Mallory snapped. "Only five or six. Maybe seven? Okay definitely less than ten I know that!"

"Look Mallory none of us are happy about how slow things are," Lana said. "Do you have any idea how expensive day care is?"

"You might as well save your money and bring her **here!** " Mallory snapped. "This place is practically an adult daycare!"

"Okay, you know…?" Archer began.

"And since most of the people here have IQ's and mannerisms equivalent to children I'm sure AJ would feel quite at home!" Mallory snapped.

"Ms. Archer haven't you tried calling some of your old contacts?" Cyril asked. "There must be somebody in California you know!"

"Oh why didn't I think of **that**?" Mallory mocked. "I must have been too busy going to air bars with all the other airheads of this hippy-dippy state!"

"Aren't those like passé now?" Archer asked. "I mean they don't even serve alcohol. You're basically paying for something you get for free. How long can those things stay in business?"

"What do you **think** I've been doing since we got blacklisted?" Mallory shouted. "I've been going through my address books and phone lists every day trying to find **something** to get us through this dry patch that makes a desert look like an oasis!"

"And how is that going?" Archer asked.

Mallory gave him a look. "Well it's a funny thing Sterling. Turns out when you get blacklisted by the CIA, for some reason people tend to take that seriously and they hang up on you! Or worse, they screen your calls and let it go to voice mail!"

"Oh…" Archer blinked.

"And even though those people's voice mails aren't nearly as **inventive** as yours Sterling," Mallory grumbled. "It still hurts because you know they are not going to call back!"

"So we'll just get new contacts!" Archer snapped.

"From **where?** " Mallory snapped. "Everybody you know is in this damn building!"

"Not everybody!" Archer protested. "I have friends!"

"Since when?" Lana chuckled.

"Shut up!" Archer snapped. "I do!"

"Archer in all the way too many years I've known you I've never seen you hang out with anyone that wasn't from this office," Cyril said.

"I have friends Cyril!" Archer barked. "In fact I think my prep school reunion is coming up in about four or five months. There's plenty of guys I know there."

"Who are they **again**?" Mallory asked with a sigh. "Because honestly Sterling I've never heard you talk about any friends you had all during your school years whenever you came home on break."

"And **that** never rang any warning bells with you?" Cyril asked Mallory. "You know? As a possible cry for help?"

"You know…?" Archer gave him a look.

"I have an idea," Lana spoke up. "Why don't we check the morning news? Maybe there's a high profile case we can solve or something?"

"Oh goody!" Mallory rolled her eyes. "Now we're imitating Hercule Poriot and his famous newspaper case!"

"I thought that was an episode of Monk?" Cyril blinked.

"Well do you have any **other ideas**?" Lana snapped.

"Fine! Cyril turn on the TV and let's see if we can put our _little grey cells_ to good use for a change," Mallory mocked.

"I'm in charge of this agency and **I** decide what we do next!" Cyril snapped. After a pause he turned the news on.

"Look I admit this isn't exactly the best idea…" Lana began.

"Big shock," Mallory grumbled.

"But it's not exactly the worst one either," Lana finished. "This is LA! There's a lot of crime out there. Odds are there's at least **one** case our agency can solve and get us some publicity."

The local news came on. "This is Darlene Love reporting from Hollywood Hills," An African American reporter came on with the Hollywood Sign behind her. Looking a lot more colorful than usual.

"Last night someone or several unknown persons tagged the famous Hollywood Sign with graffiti!" Darlene spoke. "Police have no leads at this time."

Of course since several of the spray painted words were PAM and SPLOOSH and one POOVEY RULES! The members of the Figgis Agency had a huge lead.

"Oh God no…" Lana groaned.

"I apologize Lana," Mallory said dryly. "You were right. There is **one case** our agency can solve and we can **definitely** get a lot of publicity!"

"Just not the kind we want!" Cyril groaned. "If it is Pam's fault…"

"Cyril…" Mallory pointed. "Half the words on the Hollywood sign are Pam and the rest are Sploosh! And the one that **isn't** says Poovey!"

"That is not good," Lana winced.

" **Not** **good?** " Mallory shouted. "There's a picture of a god damn dolphin and a cow on the Hollywood Hills sign! I think it's safe to say Pam is responsible!"

"Yeah that's her work all right," Archer admitted. "I'd recognize her tags anywhere."

"Well if the cops ever do we'll all be tagged and bagged off to jail!" Cyril shouted. "Where is she? PAM! PAM!"

"I do like the cow she drew on the Y," Archer remarked as Cyril stormed out of the conference room.

" **Why** do I even bother?" Mallory groaned. "Seriously? After all these years why do I still keep hoping against hope you idiots will do something right?"

"Well you always did have masochistic tendencies," Archer quipped as they got up to follow Cyril.

"And I am going to use them **right now**!" Mallory snapped. "Once I get my fingers around Pam's fat neck!"

"Pam we really need to have a talk about your spray painting activities!" Cyril stormed into the break room. "You've gone too far this time and…WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?"

"Hey guys!" Pam waved as she sat a desk in the break room with Krieger, Ray, Cheryl and a very special guest star. "Guess who's here?"

"TV's Michael Gray!" The famous TV star stood up with a flourish. He was wearing a purple short sleeved shirt and tan pants with tan shoes.

"Mikey Mike!" Archer cheered.

"Oh God not him again…" Lana put her hand on her face.

"I haven't seen you since New Mexico," Archer said. "What happened?"

"Yeah sorry about that guys," Michael scratched his head. "I would have taken you in my limo but the doctor was so distraught about her boyfriend getting killed…"

"She wanted grief sex right there," Archer finished. "Yeah I've been there. I get that."

"It was the only shot I had in weeks," Michael said.

"Been there," Archer nodded. "Okay I get it."

"And apparently Michael Gray **got it,"** Pam quipped. "Twice!"

"If it makes you feel any better she dumped me right after that," Michael said. "I went looking for you guys but you were gone by then."

"Funny story about that," Lana said sarcastically. "We got blacklisted by the CIA and dumped in the desert to die."

"Some of us were closer to death than others," Ray grumbled.

"Eventually we hitched a ride on a pickup truck and got to LA to open up our own detective agency," Archer said.

"Hey yeah as I was telling you that would be a great premise for a TV series," Pam said.

"We'll put it in the pile," Michael nodded as he indicated a stack of papers.

"So what is going on here?" Cyril snapped. "And Pam why the hell did you tag the Hollywood Sign?"

"You saw that?" Pam asked.

"IT'S THE GOD DAMN HOLLYWOOD SIGN!" Cyril shouted. " **EVERYBODY** SAW THAT!"

"That was **you**?" Michael blinked. "Wow, talk about edgy branding!"

"It's on the news with your big fat name plastered all over it!" Mallory snapped.

"Chill-ax dudes," Pam waved. "It turns out Poovey is actually slang for some kind of sex act in this town. Don't know what yet…"

"Oh dear God…" Cyril groaned. "Why did you do that Pam?"

"Because I felt like it?" Pam blinked.

"Of course you did," Cyril groaned hanging his head down. "So what is Michael Gray doing here?"

"Wait is he a client?" Lana asked hopefully.

"No, but we do collaborate on a few things. Michael Gray and I even did an infomercial together," Krieger grinned.

"Yeah I've been meaning to ask you about that," Archer gave him a look. "A couple questions actually."

"Oh you saw it?" Michael grinned.

"It was on at three in the morning before another replay of Baskets," Archer said. "Of course I saw it!"

"Told you leading before anything with Zach Galifianakis would boost our ratings," Krieger told Michael.

"Yes and then Sterling managed to tape it and showed it to the rest of us," Mallory glared at Krieger.

"You seem mad?" Krieger was puzzled. "Why are you mad?"

"Couple things," Archer held up his finger. "One, you tried to _sell Milton?"_

"Technically I tried to sell off Milton's brothers before they were built," Krieger said. "Really thought I had something going there."

"Okay," Lana sighed. "Let's skip past the obvious question that you have _no idea_ what a toaster is and why you obviously had no idea that it costs like around twenty bucks."

"Good because between the banks and the crank calls I got…" Krieger nodded. "I mean how was I supposed to know?"

"Besides there's a flyer for toasters on sale in nearly every single paper every single week?" Lana gave him a look. "And on television?"

"Since when?" Krieger asked.

"Since this new thing called **forever!** " Lana barked.

"Moving on to the next question…" Archer sighed. "How did you get Michael Gray to do this?"

"I really needed the work," Michael frowned.

"Obviously," Archer said. "Again Mike…A thousand-dollar giant toaster when you can get a regular one for twenty bucks?"

"I didn't know either!" Michael protested. "I never saw those things!"

"Wow the advertising industry has a bigger problem than I thought," Ray quipped.

"So am I correct in assuming that stupid toaster on wheels is here?" Mallory snapped.

Right on cue Milton rolled up to her. Out popped some toast.

"How the hell did this metal monstrosity **get here?"** Mallory shouted as she pointed at Milton.

"Easy," Krieger shrugged. "I had him shipped by Federal Express."

"How did you get that stupid thing out of the office?" Mallory shouted. "I thought the CIA confiscated everything?"

"Not everything," Krieger shrugged. "Besides Milton wasn't even in the office when it was shut down. He was at my apartment. Funny story…"

"Is it that you wanted toast that morning and didn't know how to make it?" Lana sighed.

"So you brought Milton in from work the night before?" Archer added.

"Yes! How did you know?" Krieger blinked.

"Lucky guess…" Lana sighed.

"It figures that the **one thing** I would not have minded the CIA keeping is here with the rest of you useless idiots!" Mallory groaned.

"Which leads me to my next question AKA problem I had with your infomercial," Archer let out a breath. "Krieger…Please tell me that you merely photo shopped yourself several times to make an audience."

"Okay I will," Krieger nodded.

"But you didn't, did you?" Archer sighed.

"No," Krieger said honestly.

"So you cloned yourself **again** ," Archer groaned. "Several times…Just to film an infomercial?"

"And I made a Michael Gray clone," Krieger pointed to Michael.

"I told you **not** to do that!" Michael snapped.

"YOU CLONED YOURSELF MULTIPLE TIMES TO MARKET THAT PIECE OF METALLIC CRAP?" Mallory roared. "After all the trouble in San Marcos with the nerve toxin your dumb doppelgangers made?"

"Yes," Krieger replied, wishing he was behind bullet proof glass.

"Not to mention the damn Krieglins!" Ray barked.

"Oh right I forgot about them," Krieger blinked.

"You forgot about your own gremlin-hybrid clones who made an advanced civilization under the city of New York in the sewers?" Mallory shouted.

"To be fair Mother, you've forgotten about **me** quite a few times during my childhood," Archer gave her a look.

"So where are they?" Mallory barked.

"Who?" Krieger asked.

"The cast of Gilligan's Island! WHO DO YOU THINK?" Mallory shouted.

"Mallory let me handle this!" Cyril barked. "This is **my agency** after all!"

"Well then start **running it** for a change!" Mallory barked.

"Krieger where are your clones?" Cyril snapped. "And I am referring to the ones that were in the infomercial!"

"Not here," Krieger said. "They're gone."

"Define gone," Lana folded her arms.

"Gone as in gone! Piggly ate most of them," Krieger protested.

" **Most** of them?" Ray did a double take, clearly shocked.

"I don't know where to **begin** with that statement…" Mallory groaned. "Yes I do. You have **another** flesh eating radioactive pig?"

"Well not now…" Krieger sighed. "That Piggly died shortly after the infomercial. Turns out the French Michael Gray was taking a lot of drugs. Which is shocking because he was only alive for less than forty-eight hours."

"Let's skip over the fact that I specifically told you no more flesh eating radioactive pigs and go on to the next offense," Mallory groaned.

"Yeah how could you clone Michael Gray?" Archer barked.

"I have a hard enough time getting work as it is with only one of me!" Michael shouted.

"I was talking about the **other clones** that **survived!** " Mallory shouted. "How many and where are they?"

"You're talking about the clones from the taping that weren't eaten by Piggly right?" Krieger blinked.

"Dear God the man is an idiot savant without the savant!" Mallory groaned. "YES KRIEGER! I AM! WHERE ARE THEY?"

"I don't know where most of them went," Krieger protested.

" **Most** of them?" Ray barked.

"I do know that one of them just got a job at Disneyland working on animatronic characters," Krieger said. "His name is Almond and he can score me free tickets any time I want!"

"Almond? You have a clone named **Almond?** " Archer snorted.

"Sounds like a real nut to me," Cyril quipped.

"Damn it Cyril!" Archer barked. "I was going to say that!"

"That's why I said it," Cyril told him. "For Almond to survive Piggly he must have a pretty hard shell."

"DAMN IT!" Archer shouted.

"Sterling shut up and focus!" Mallory shouted. "Let's move back to **this nut** …" She pointed to Krieger.

"Oh come on!" Archer shouted.

"Let me guess," Ray added. "Your clone Almond works for peanuts at Disney?"

"Damn it Ray!" Archer shouted.

"Yeah but he's got park privileges and stock options and unlimited snack bar so he's doing well," Krieger nodded. "So he's actually working for Walt-Nuts. Get it?"

"You are going to get it…" Mallory growled.

"Holy nut-sacks!" Pam spoke up. "This whole case is cracked!"

"Pam!" Archer barked.

"Cashew!" Cheryl spoke up.

"Gesundheit!" Krieger said.

"ENOUGH WITH THE DAMN NUT JOKES!" Lana shouted.

"Aw nuts!" Cheryl spoke up. "They were just getting fun!"

"CHERYL!" Mallory barked. "Krieger how many other clones of yourself escaped?"

"You're talking about the ones from the taping right?" Krieger asked.

"For the sake of this conversation ending earlier, yes…" Mallory growled.

"Well technically a few of them didn't escape," Krieger scratched his head. "As much as I sent them out for errands during the taping and they never came back."

"How many?" Mallory growled.

"Only one or two. No more than five," Krieger waved. "Including Almond. Six at most. Definitely not seven to ten. Nope. Not ten of them. Nope, nope, nope."

"So ten…" Archer let out a sigh.

"Yeah, ten of them," Krieger shrugged.

"Ten Krieger clones?" Archer barked. "Krieger trust me on this! **One** of you is enough!"

"Great! Just great!" Cyril threw up his hands. "Now we have to track down our own Krieger clones!"

"Only nine of them!" Krieger protested. "We know where Almond is. Don't worry. My clones usually send me postcards of where they are from time to time."

"Usually send you…?" Mallory did a double take. "Forget it. I can't deal with this right now. Not sober anyway."

"Since you're **never** sober…" Ray gave her a look.

"Why don't we put the Krieger hunt on the back burner for another story later in the season?" Cheryl spoke up.

"She thinks our lives are a television show," Pam whispered to Michael.

"What's weird about that?" Michael asked her.

"Krieger clones…" Cyril groaned. "Great! On top of everything else, now I have to deal with Krieger clones running amok!"

"Kind of puts Pam's tagging spree in perspective doesn't it?" Cheryl asked cheerfully.

"Spree? What do you mean by _spree?"_ Lana did a double take.

"Nothing!" Pam shoved Cheryl. "She said nothing. Knows nothing. Don't worry about it."

"See whenever any of you say 'Don't worry about it'," Cyril glared. "It's usually a sign for me to **worry about it!"**

"Maybe it's just as well I'm not technically in charge anymore?" Mallory groaned.

"Thank you so much for your support!" Cyril snapped at Mallory.

"Let's try another approach…" Lana sighed. "Why is Michael Gray hanging out here if he's not a client?"

"Like I said work has dried up and I really need a job pretty soon," Michael said.

"Join the club," Mallory rolled her eyes.

"It's hard to get a job in this town when you reach a certain age," Michael sighed.

"Testify," Mallory groaned.

"It doesn't matter how skilled or talented or experienced you are," Michael went on. "If you don't know right people or God forbid people in the right places just don't care you're practically dead!"

"It must be like looking in a mirror for you," Ray quipped at Mallory.

"I just want to be a great actor again!" Michael sobbed. "Is that so wrong?"

"Ditto…" Mallory gave Ray a look.

"He's a little needy," Krieger whispered to Archer.

"No…" Archer said sarcastically. "I didn't notice!"

"So basically we're hanging out with Michael Gray for free…" Cyril groaned.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Archer remarked.

"Besides if this pilot thing works and Michael Gray gets a show again," Ray suggested.

"The Figgis Agency could get hired for well anything," Cyril realized. "What the hell? Might as well try it out. Whatever crazy idea you have cooked up."

"Actually we have a few plans," Pam said cheerfully. "And a few scrips loosely penned out!"

"This is going to be one of those multi-parters isn't it?" Cheryl asked.

"I hope to God that means that someone gets to chop you idiots up into multiple parts," Mallory groaned.

"Again our lives are not a TV show," Pam sighed. "And we're in the writing phase. Not shooting phase. So this will take a while."

"Great so how do we get Michael Gray out of our break room?" Cyril pointed with his thumb at the crying TV star.

"Until he gets a hit show I guess," Lana shrugged.

"There, there Michael," Ray patted him on the back. "I'm sure something will turn up."

"You really think so?" Michael sniffed.

"I know so," Ray nodded. "That's why we're working on these plot ideas for new shows!"

"Yeah and I've got a kick ass idea!" Pam called out. "Clone Hunter! Get this! About a mad scientist who has to track down and save or destroy his own clones!"

"Hey that's my story!" Krieger snapped.

"So you get a writing credit," Pam rolled her eyes.

"Ooh! Cool!" Krieger smiled.

"Clone Hunter! I like it!" Michael grinned. "And his last name could be Hunter!"

Michael stood dramatically. "I'm Gray Hunter! Clone Hunter!"

"Something tells me he's going to be here a while," Archer blinked.

"Something tells me I'm going to a bar for a while," Mallory walked out.


End file.
